Answer:
As I walked along the path I saw something with four fingers and one thumb, but it was not flesh, fish, bone or fowl.
My tongue hangs out as I run over fields and streets all day. I get tied up every morning and untied at night.
What grows in winter, dies in summer, and grows roots upward?
I usually wear a yellow coat. I usually have a dark head. I make marks wherever I go.
A thousand colored folds stretch toward the sky. Atop a tender strand, rising from the land, until killed by maiden's hand. Perhaps a token of love, perhaps to say goodbye.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?